For the fans, p.33
For The Fans, page 33
And my pillow smells like him. My whole damn bed smells like him… Like amber and honey and something citrusy I can’t place...
Oh, shit. Flinging upright, my face tilts in the direction of my camera, which is still recording. I shake my head and get up, turning it off.
Once again, I forgot we were filming. Because the Fans is seeming more and more like an afterthought lately.
“Avi!” Kyran’s voice roars from inside the bathroom, and I press my lips together.
Guess he finally noticed the hickeys…
He comes storming out in his boxers, fuming, and it’s a struggle to keep from grinning, or admiring how incredible he looks decorated in my little love bites.
“Are you fucking serious?!” he hisses.
“What’s wrong?” I play dumb, giving him a few innocent flutters of my eyelashes.
“You know I’m a football player, right?” he seethes. “I have to strip down in front of other guys in the locker room…”
“That sounds fun.” I allow a teasing smirk out, and it clearly enrages him further.
“This isn’t funny!” he barks. “How am I going to explain this??”
Stepping over to him, I assess the marks on his chest, and his abs… leading down into his boxer briefs. “Just say they’re from a girl.” I shrug.
“They’re on my ass,” he growls, and I slap my hand over my mouth to keep the chuckles in. “Along with these nice fingerprint bruises!” He tugs his boxers down a bit, and now I kind of feel bad.
I don’t really regret marking him the way I did… He deserves it for being an asshole earlier. But still, he has a point. It might be difficult to claim a girl did that.
Tracing the marks with my finger, I hear him exhale, and my eyes slide up to his. “It’s really sexy, though…”
His visible anger slips away, and he blinks at me, parting his lips like he’s going to say something. But then his chin dips, to where Robin is rubbing herself on his legs. I have to grin, because it’s pretty cute. She’s comforting him when he’s upset, just like she does to me.
Kyran looks like he doesn’t know what to do with her, glancing at me with his brow cocked. “What’s its name?”
“Robin.” I bite my lip.
He squints down at her. “Why Robin?”
“Because she’s my sidekick,” I tell him. He peeks at me. “I’m Batman.”
A laugh bubbles out of him, and I feel like the inside of my chest is on fire. “Cute. Is one of Batman’s moves to leave hickeys all over his enemies? I don’t remember reading that in any of the comics…”
I didn’t know he read Batman… Interesting.
Chuckling, I tilt my head at him. “Could be one way to defeat you…”
“And which villain am I?”
Curling my fingers around his hip, I lean in to his ear. “I’d say you’re Mr. Freeze… Because you’re ice cold.”
He swallows, and I melt our warm flesh together, kissing his neck slowly while he whispers, “Am I…?”
“Not always.” My hand runs up his chest. But before I can continue with my shameless attempts at getting him to stay, he pulls away.
“I have to go, Avi.” He gives me a look like he’s not really sure if he wants to, and it’s starting to rip me up a little.
I just nod—it’s all I can do—as he wanders back into the bathroom, getting dressed quickly.
On his way out the door, he stops to look over his shoulder. His eyes drop to the cat, and he says, “Bye, Robin.” Then he aims those pretty orbs of awed hazel at me and whispers, “Bye, Batman.”
S4int_d1ck: You be Santa. I’ll be the elf helping empty your sac.
BigDickBritBoy: @Backwardz_Cap @Not_Your_Baby Wanna collab? You both look like hard workers and I have two openings you can fill
Sooo…
I spent the afternoon doing something I never in a million years could have predicted I’d do willingly…
I gave myself an enema.
Okay, before you judge me, just let me explain.
I was on Twitter, checking comments from the fans. Engaging, so on and so forth, per Avi’s request. But then my curiosity won out, and I started checking the accounts of other OnlyFans creators, just to see what they do and what they’re like online. If there are things I could maybe… learn from them. It was like research.
One thing led to another, and the next thing I knew, I’d fallen into a gay rabbit hole on Tumblr. I somehow wound up reading posts by gay dudes—specifically bottoms—who were describing their… regimens, for lack of a better word that makes this seem less bizarre.
I don’t want to admit that reading this stuff made me feel like a total noob… But it did. So I decided to take some mental notes on how to make sure I never embarrass myself in front of Avi. Because he’s my partner.
My business partner, I mean. That’s it.
I’m not doing it for him, I’m doing it for myself. And the Fans.
I snuck off to the drugstore, incognito, with a hat pulled down so low over my face I could barely see as I purchased everything I needed. Then I waited for Guty to leave, and proceeded to spend hours in the bathroom, grooming my… undercarriage, if you will, and giving myself an intentional saline enema.
No, it was not pretty, and no, I don’t wish to discuss the details any further.
Suffice it to say, I’ll be going into my next sexual encounter with my stepbrother prepared. It’s all part of the lifestyle, I guess. And by lifestyle, I mean that of a gay porn content creator.
None of this is stuff I ever envisioned myself doing, but I’m really trying my hardest to dart past the hang-ups and admit that I enjoy working with Avi. I mean, the videos speak for themselves. Sex with him is epically better than any I’ve had before… And while I’m still wrestling with what that means exactly, for my identity, I think getting paid massive amounts of money to have mind-boggling orgasms is enough of a motivator for me to stuff down my inner doubts and insecurities as best I can. For now.
Outside of the business, things with me and Avi are still a little weird, and I’m not sure if they ever won’t be. After all, how do you go through the kinds of things we’ve been experiencing together and not form some type of attachment? He sees a side of me that no one else has ever seen before, and as much as I want to keep hating him, because I feel like I should, I can’t help that the resentment is slowly wearing off.
I’m starting to feel like the attention from the fans is just a bonus… And the real attention I’m craving is from the one person I always told myself I hated.
It’s extremely concerning, for a lot of different reasons, the main one being that this was never supposed to be about me and Avi. It’s supposed to be about money, plain and simple. But the other night, it didn’t dawn on me until I was back in my own dorm, in bed and trying desperately to fall asleep, that we’d been filming the whole thing.
The camera might as well not even have been there.
And that’s a problem. Because I’m not gay, and Avi is my stepbrother. I shouldn’t be doing what I’ve been doing with him in the first place, but the second we lose sight of why we started doing it, this turns into a much bigger problem…
A life-altering one.
I don’t want to think about confronting this stuff. My goal since I was twelve years old has been to stuff it all down. Avoid, distract, deny. That’s how I cope… The only way I’m even surviving the endless inner torment known as my life.
I don’t think I can juggle these two completely different versions of myself…
Are either of them the real me?
Who even am I??
As chaotic as all of these thoughts are, they’re just adding to the stress of my current predicament. I’m packing a bag right now, preparing to go home for the holidays.
Christmas break is supposed to be fun. I’m sure most other students are looking forward to spending the holidays with their families, opening presents, sipping hot cocoa, talking and laughing and being normal.
But not me. I’m filled with mortal dread as I remove clothes from my travel bag and stuff in new ones. We just got back last night from a playoff game in Mississippi, where we defeated Ole Miss twenty-four to seventeen. It was a tight win… Their defense was on us like glue, and we only made it by the skin of our teeth. I refuse to admit that my head was elsewhere, but I was having trouble concentrating just a little.
And now I’m being forced to spend an entire week in that house I worked my ass off to escape from, with my miserable father, my suffering stepmother, and the guy I’ve been having secret gay sex with for money, who also happens to be my stepbrother.
If anyone has a vial of poison they’d like to slip into my coat pocket, now’s the time.
Guty left early this morning for his flight back to Nevada, so I’m just sort of lingering around in the dorm. I still have a few hours to kill before I need to leave…
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, without even knowing why I’m doing it, I open my text messages and type a new one.
Me: Hey… You wanna hang for a few before we go home?
My foot is tapping rapidly on the floor while I chew my lower lip, pretending like I’m not watching the screen out of the corner of my eye for the moment he reads the message.
Five whole minutes pass, and eventually I shake my head, feeling like an idiot as I open the Uber app. But just as I’m about to order it, a text pings.
Avi: Yea, that would be cool.
Avi: Come over. And bring burgers ;)
Rolling my eyes, I stuff my phone away and grab my stuff, heading for the door. The walk to his dorm is less than five minutes, during which I’m pulling the collar of my coat up around my neck to avoid the cold. When I get inside and up to his floor, I let out a breath before knocking. I’m feeling all manners of jittery while I listen to him clomping up to the door.
He whips it open, the elated grin slipping off his face when he sees me.
“Why are you frowning?” I push past Avi into his dorm, and he closes the door behind me. “Expecting someone else?” I cock my eyebrow at him while shrugging out of my coat.
“I asked you to bring burgers, and yet here you are, burger-free.” He sidles around me to the kitchen in his backwards cap and sweatpants, and I force myself not to spend one more second looking at his bare chest.
“I’m not DoorDash, bitch,” I grumble, accepting the cup he’s offering me. “If you want burgers, fucking order them yourself.”
“Always a ray of sunshine.” He smirks sarcastically, and I shrug, taking a drink.
I certainly need it to calm the hectic rapids crashing inside me from the fact that I’m here again.
I think it’s clear that I’m not a go-with-the-flow kind of person. Sometimes I wish I was, but it’s just not me. I haven’t been optimistically easy-going since I was a kid. Everything I do in my life is intricately planned out and crafted to fit the image of myself I’ve created, to ensure I never get caught with my guard down ever again.
Or at least that’s how it was… Until I started engaging in gay liaisons with my stepbrother for money.
And speaking of the money, it’s been huge. We’ve brought in more than double from the last two videos than we made on the previous ones. And I have to admit, being able to see all of the hype surrounding the two of us with my own eyes, in real-time, threw a wrench into my original plan of cutting this thing off the second I had my housing payments.
Giving in to this situation is starting to feel like a new mask for me to wear. When I’m alone with Avi, I’m someone else. I’m playing a part, and whether or not it feels real is irrelevant. This version of Kyran Harbor finds solace in letting go of his control… Just a tiny bit. Just enough to distract him from reality, and the cavernous abyss of darkness inside.
He’s not even Kyran Harbor at all… He’s Not_Your_Baby.
“So, I was thinking…” Avi says, chewing on a red straw in his drink. “We should make my OnlyFans a joint account. People love couple’s accounts. And plus, I’m not really making solo content anymore, anyway.”
I’m listening to him, but my eyes are narrowed in on the straw he’s now biting chunks out of. “Is that a Twizzler in your drink?” He grins wide and nods. “What are you… eight??”
“Are you saying you’re not a fan of my childlike whimsy?” He smirks.
I stare at him for a moment before shaking my head. “You’re an idiot.”
His face slants while he gnaws on that damn Twizzler. “Why are you so tense?”
“I’m not tense…” I lie, feeling stupid for saying it because I’m obviously not doing great, the stress of all the bullshit in my life perched heavily on my shoulders.
“You want me to help you relax…?” His grin widens.
My stomach twists for some reason, and I force myself to appear unaffected by his offer… And not like I’m considering what that would be like just the tiniest bit.
“I’m good,” I huff.
He steps forward, inching closer until I can feel the heat coming off his exposed skin. “But you know I’m good at it…” Reaching out, he slips his finger through one of the belt loops on my jeans, tugging me into him.
I can feel my face flushing, but I stuff it down and shove him away. “Avi, stop fucking around. Let’s just… talk business.”
“But fucking around is our business.” He beams, and I roll my eyes. Surrendering his endless goofiness, he sighs. “Fine, sheesh. For someone who’s been having an abundance of toe-curling orgasms, you’re still awfully uptight.”
He eases around me, sauntering over to the couch and plopping down onto it, while I stand, fluttering in place and trying desperately to push away thoughts of him helping me loosen up.
Clearing my throat, I finish my drink, joining him on the couch. He has his laptop in front of him, and when I check the screen, I see that he has two windows open side-by-side. His OnlyFans and his Twitter.
Pulling up the details of his OF profile, he peeks at me. “So… joint account. Thoughts?”
I nod. “Yea. Fine. Whatever you think is best.”
“I’m not going to change the whole thing, but I’ll modify the description to reflect that we’re mostly just… collaborating. Together.” He gives me a twinkly look that spreads bizarre warmth in my chest.
Shifting from the overwhelming notion of this, I clear my throat and nod again. “’Kay…”
“’Cause I’m not… collaborating with anyone else,” he murmurs, eyes flicking to me in between tapping on his keyboard. “Are you?”
“No…” I whisper. “I don’t even want to be doing this with you… Remember?”
The words feel like acid on my tongue.
Avi’s lashes flutter at my face before he rasps, “Right. How could I forget…”
“I… I think that came out wrong,” I start to backtrack.
But he gives me a grin that looks a little forced and says, “Don’t worry about it. I know what you meant.”
My brow arches. “Do you?”
He shrugs. And now I’m even more confused.
What the hell are we doing?? None of this is making any sense…
When we’re alone together at night, fooling around for the fans, it feels like we’re something else. Two different people. I like the way it feels to be those people. But then I don’t feel like I’m supposed to, and it fucks me all up.
“Here.” His voice cuts into my worrisome thought. “Let’s make a post for the fans. To get them excited about the… merger.”
“Okay…” I blink while he goes back to the computer, typing out a new description. “What kind of post?”
Avi grabs his phone off the table, opens the front-facing camera, and aims it at us. Before I can even process what he’s doing, he slinks his fingers onto my jaw and tugs me to his mouth. I’m sort of startled at first, par for the course when kissing him, because it’s just so different…
I guess in theory it could feel like a girl’s mouth… Warm, with full, soft lips like fluffy pillows. But he’s more dominant than any girl I’ve ever kissed; the way his mouth advances on mine, as if he’s a settler exploring new territory and claiming it for himself.
He also does this thing where he bites my bottom lip, but in a gentle, erotic sort of way, tugging it between his teeth before grazing it with his tongue, then brushing it inside my mouth to tease mine. It hypnotizes me; puts me in a trance, like when you hold a cat by the scruff of its neck.
He’s a really fucking great kisser, but I don’t think I can voice such compliments to him. Instead, I’m just shivering here, under the spell of his mouth while his hand glides down my chest, thumb flicking my nipple through my shirt until I whimper.
I hear the distinct sound of a picture being taken, and it snaps me out of it. My eyes open as he’s pulling back, blinking hooded lids at me.
“See?” he breathes, his voice all gravelly. “The business can still… feel good.”
What does that mean?? I’m so confused…
I don’t think I could speak if I had words to offer up. So I just sit quietly while he assesses the picture of us on the screen.
“Aw, this came out so good,” he sighs, almost flippantly, the way you’d cheer over a great picture of a sunset.
Pursing my lips, and once again ignoring the heat in my face, I check the screen. The picture of us kissing brings on the same tingling thrill I’ve felt while watching our videos. It looks like a picture of two strangers; a couple.
A wave of unease crashes in my gut, mixing up with the excitement to make me sort of dizzy. But Avi is completely unaffected by it, as usual. He’s just playing around on his phone, modifying the picture to blur parts of my face.
Squirming, I manage to conjure up some words as a distraction. “Why don’t you blur your face?”
He glances at me, features going serious. “I’m not really sure…”
“If you had to guess…” I push on.
He purses his lips, thinking for a moment before he shrugs. “I guess I… like the attention. I like them fawning over me, as a person. And I mean, no one knows who I actually am. I don’t use my real name or anything.”
